


Oblivion

by writtendlessly



Category: Minecraft Youtubers, Team Crafted
Genre: BajanCanadian - Freeform, M/M, More angst not sry, NoochM
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-11
Updated: 2013-12-11
Packaged: 2018-01-04 08:12:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1078636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writtendlessly/pseuds/writtendlessly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"But like planets that only line up once in a million years, they could only tell they were moving in opposite directions when it was too late to change course. "</p>
            </blockquote>





	Oblivion

**Author's Note:**

> Mildly inspired by [this](http://25.media.tumblr.com/f5997f2aae4285fe64f2f1e63b067ec7/tumblr_mxltrrG9Mh1qzj9yzo1_500.png) and very inspired by Oblivion by Bastille. Rated as "Teen and Up" because of a few references to sex, nothing much.

It took about two hours of struggling and half-hearted arguing, but all the effort was proven worthwhile when Mat sees the relaxation in Mitch’s face, the way his muscles lose their tension as the boy peacefully sleeps. The conditions weren’t ideal, Mitch laying sprawled out across his couch with his head on Mat’s lap instead of on his mattress, but Mat knows this is the most he could hope for. Mitch is full of contradictions—lazy but a neat freak, impatient but never on time—and when Mat demanded he go to sleep, Mitch insisted there were a million other things that needed to be done first.

Even when Mat got him to lay down, he could tell the other boy’s mind was going a mile a minute. There was always videos to record, trips to plan, business decisions to be made. Mat remembers times when they were younger and would spend nights at the other’s house. Mitch would always fall asleep first but wake up last, sleeping so deep that nothing short of the apocalypse could wake him up. Now, he barely sleeps at all, busy thoughts and piled up stress never allowing him to feel fully rested.

A lot of things have changed since those days. They weren’t obnoxious high school kids, swearing and being offensive just because they can. They weren’t two friends putting things on youtube and trying to be rock stars with no effort. They were no longer the poster boys for young love, eskimo kisses in the early morning and drunken fumbling in the late night, holding hands and smiling and making their friends complain about how cheesy they are. These days, they’re sporadic phone calls and text messages, spending all their time together in bed either fucking or sleeping. Mat wouldn’t call them long distance, Mitch wouldn’t either, but there’s distance nonetheless and it chokes them in its intensity.

They’ve both grown and changed over the years, Mitch especially so. Mat finds himself surprised every day that Mitch is doing the things he’s doing—talking to industry executives, gaining sponsorships, flying first class to award shows. He takes pride in the fact that no matter how many people see Mitch, none of them will ever know him as intimately as Mat does. Nobody knows the way he looks like when he’s just woken up, rolling over and on top of Mat in his morning confusion. Nobody knows the sounds Mitch can make; when he burns himself on the stove while making dinner, when he gets off the phone with another pushy family member, when Mat plays his body like a fine-tuned guitar.

But even the things that Mat always held as eternal are starting to change before his eyes. What was quiet sighs and surprised squeaks becomes outraged yelling or complete silence. Mitch will say things sometimes, entire phrases, and Mat doesn’t know what they mean but Mitch laughs and laughs. Mitch will smile and start, “Remember when…” but Mat never does; he can’t remember something he never experienced.

Even when Mat goes with him to these things, conventions and big parties, it’s clear that the scene was never meant for him. Mitch gets so excited, so wrapped up in talking to everyone he possibly can, that he forgets Mat is there with him. Mitch always apologizes when he finds Mat, normally in a secluded corner nursing a beer or in the sectioned-off lounge for the press at conventions. Mat forgives him easily, as its never worth it to start a fight. But Mat knows there will be a time in the future when Mitch will look next to him and see the other boys and he won’t ever remember to look behind him to seek out Mat. Eventually, he won’t  _want_  to look back, eyes focused straight towards the future.

Mat can understand why he would, with a future that bright it’s hard to look away. Mat knows, maybe he always knew, that Mitch could do amazing things with his career. Mitch is friendly and charming, the perfect combination to make friends in all the right places. Above all, he’s entertaining, and his dedication to his fans and the content he provides to them will skyrocket him so far up that Mat will only be able to see the trails in the clouds that he leaves behind.

Mitch could have done it by now, could be orbiting the planet with the other stars, but Mat knows that he’s the reason Mitch hasn’t. The only thing keeping him from Los Angeles and an infinite array of opportunities is the loose strings tugging him back towards Montreal, the fraying remains of their relationship. Mat doesn’t doubt that Mitch cares about him, but Mitch was always a free spirit—something like a bird or cool rain on a summer night—and he was never meant to stay locked down so long in a place as desolate and cold as Montreal and Mat’s arms.

There’s a part of him that always knew that, even when they started the relationship. Maybe even the day they met. Something in him knew that if he held on too tight he’d shatter Mitch into so many pieces that he’d never be whole again. But there was also a part of him, a much bigger part, that wanted to keep him as close as possible, because Mitch was a flashlight when Mat was trapped in an endless forest. More simply, Mitch was the friend who pulled Mat out of the dark confines of his mind and his comfort zone. Mitch brought him to the edges of cliffs and the tops of mountains and Mat never wanted to jump, not once.

Mat isn’t sure if he ever did much for Mitch. Cynical and aggressive can only harm optimistic and understanding, never help it. There was nothing Mat could show Mitch that he had not already seen himself. He hopes the memories were good, though, if nothing else. He hopes that when someone brings up teenage romance and the chill of winter, that Mitch takes comfort in what has passed, rather than shiver at the thought. Mat hopes that when the memories are nothing but a hazy blur of colors and dampened feelings, that they will be soft blues and vibrant oranges and not the dark red of blood or worse, only blackness.

The most he can hope for is to be an old t-shirt in Mitch’s closet, shoved to the back behind suits and jeans—and that when Mitch brushes his hand against the soft cotton of his memories, the fabric is forgiving and loose, comfortable to put back on if he ever wished to.

Even if he’s nothing but a lost sock in the bottom of a drawer, Mat would be contented. He wants to be able to watch Mitch grow and succeed, even if only through his computer screen. He wants it all to work out, better than Mitch or the rest of them could ever hope. He wants to turn on the news and hear about the new millionaire youtubers, the new generation of businessmen. He wants to see Mitch giving speeches at universities and award shows and watch as he smiles off screen to the love of his life, gives a little wave, thanks the audience again.

Mat hopes that person, whoever they are, is beautiful. That they’re elegant and understanding and kind. He has no stronger desire than to see Mitch with a man or woman who completes him, who could be the support he needs—the support Mat could never be. They will follow Mitch and help him, cheer him on from their position at his side, take care of him when he’s stressed, help mold him into the person he always had potential to be. And goddamn, Mat hopes they love Mitch a million times more than Mat ever could, because Mitch deserves nothing less than perfection.

Maybe breaking up now would make this easier. Mat could get over the heartbreak sooner rather than later. Smash the hourglass instead of watching it run out. But there’s a part of Mat that can’t help but be selfish. Ever since the day he met Mitch, he’s wanted to be close to him, to soak up his infectious energy and try to be the focus of his bright smile. And he had that, for essentially the last five years. But like planets that only line up once in a million years, they could only tell they were moving in opposite directions when it was too late to change course. Mat finds that his gravity drags Mitch back just slightly, slowing the process enough to give them maybe a few extra weeks to be in the same galaxy before the tension snaps and Mitch goes careening off into forever. Mat will take what he can get, even if it’s not entirely fair to Mitch.

Mat tries to convince himself that he’s holding back to protect Mitch too. The boy has been nothing short of ecstatic for weeks, mouth going nonstop and thoughts barely able to keep up with his excited rambling. Realistically, nothing Mat could do could damper his mood, but pretending that he’s doing the right thing helps to lessen the guilt.

Watching their slow descent is maddening, though, and makes Mat feel as helpless and weak as a child. There’s nothing he can do as the last bits of wax melt off and he’s left with nothing but the charred remains of a wick. Maybe relating them to a candle is too clichéd, they were probably more like a balloon, just always on the cusp of complete destruction but having the air slowly leak out instead of a sudden explosion. Maybe their relationship could have stretched across the distance, but its shape would forever be distorted.

Maybe they weren’t a candle, or a balloon, or an overextended metaphor in a poet’s sonnet. Maybe they were two boys who thought they had it all figured out but had no idea, two boys who thought they could rule the world when there was only ever one throne. Two boys who would cross rivers and valleys for the other, but couldn’t make it past telephone wires and frequent flier miles. Maybe they were doomed from the start, or maybe the ending was entirely their own faults.

Mat will probably never be entirely sure, but he knows that the future is calling Mitch, pulling him away even as he lays so quietly in Mat’s lap. Mat brushes the hair off Mitch’s face and revels in the way the other boy leans into the touch, even in his sleep. Mat might not have forever, or even tomorrow, but he has this now—and in some ways that’s enough.


End file.
